


How We Get By

by ThegoodshipRickyl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Domestic Rickyl, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Shy Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThegoodshipRickyl/pseuds/ThegoodshipRickyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl had the power to make Rick feel like they weren't just barely scraping by on groceries, like they didn’t have to keep the thermostat all the way down to sixty-five degrees, like they didn’t have to jury-rig all the repairs to their old house, all so they could give their kids most of what they needed and barely any of what they actually deserved. Rick could just slip into Daryl's space and forget all that. Maybe even let himself be a little bit carefree again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How We Get By

Very early on in their now three-year relationship, Rick had learned about Daryl’s funny habit of finding the highest point in a given area and taking it for himself. Rick figured it was probably just to give himself the extra bit of space he needed from everyone else, or from the world in general. He found it endearing and so of course didn't mind when Daryl would sometimes perch on the back of the sofa or on the handrails of their porch, or, as he found him one morning as he shuffled into the kitchen for some coffee, sitting on the counter top next to the coffeemaker. He was eating a slice of Carl's old birthday cake from earlier that week, not using a fork, just his bare hands. He was wearing a white T-shirt splattered with motor oil stains and red boxers that his pale, knobby-kneed legs stuck out of. His feet were crossed at the ankles and his heels thumped gently against the cabinets as he swung his legs back and forth. As soon as he heard Rick’s stocking feet, he looked up, a little sheepish at being caught. He soon relaxed, seeing Rick's fond grin, and returned it with one of his patented half-smiles that were all eyes and very little mouth.

 

Rick had to tear his eyes away from the lovely sight of a sleep-rumpled Daryl shyly smiling at him to go to the refrigerator for some breakfast at the behest of his empty, squelching stomach. The fridge yielded very little; a nearly full pack of bologna, about four fingers of milk, and a door full of condiment bottles, all half empty. Rick made a note to himself to stop by the store later for one of those cheap mini-cartons of eggs and - if they could swing it - maybe a loaf of bread. They did have some extra mustard packets left over from Carl's birthday dinner at the burger joint across town. With those, plus the bologna and what was left of the bread, Rick figured he could whip up a couple of sandwiches, one for Carl’s lunch and one for his. Rick’s stomach grumbled again to remind him he still had breakfast to worry about before all that.

 

He sighed deeply and dragged his hand from his forehead all the way down to his chin, wishing he could just wipe off his stubble instead of having to expend the energy to shave it. He was completely exhausted, the result of having a taxing occupation and taking care of two kids on half a shoestring budget. He glanced back at Daryl picking crumbs off his plate and relaxed a little. His boyfriend had so far been more than he could ask for, a man willing to slum it on night shifts at the gas station and then go straight home to look after Carl and Judith while Rick was on duty. A good bit of their money got soaked up by Rick's divorce, but Daryl never batted an eye, always there for Rick when Lori yanked him around or Shane decided to pull yet another power play stunt. Rick broke down sometimes, Daryl did too, but when everyone else in their lives jerked the rug out, they were always left standing together.

 

Rick shut the refrigerator door and leaned back against it, rubbing his eyes. He met Daryl's gaze and managed a watery smile. Daryl pulled out a plate from the cabinet behind him and awkwardly held it out in Rick's direction. He gave it an enticing little jiggle.

 

Rick held up his hand. "Save it. Carl'll be up in an hour."

 

"There's enough. C'mon." Another jiggle, this time paired with a disapproving frown.

 

Rick shook his head and went to pull the pot out of the coffeemaker to fill it with water. "Trust me, I’m good."

 

Daryl huffed and dumped his now empty plate in the sink. He caught Rick's arm as it pulled back with the coffee pot, now full with water. Rick replaced the pot and rolled his eyes as he pushed the buttons on the machine by rote, trying to ignore Daryl's insistent grip on his arm. He couldn't hold out too long though, eventually letting himself be pulled into the space between Daryl's knees until his hips were flush against the counter. Daryl's hands, chilled from the cold air of the kitchen, made Rick suck in a breath when they crept underneath his t-shirt. Daryl smirked and gave Rick's ribs a small tickle with his blunt fingers. Rick squirmed but couldn't escape, as Daryl had him gripped too tightly between his knees. In retaliation, he slipped his own freezing hands behind Daryl's knees so he could pull his legs up and wrap them around his waist, getting a short bark of a laugh and an enticing shiver out of him. He ran his hands up Daryl's thighs and all the way up his sides over his shirt, pleased to find out that the rest of him was warm and pliant. Rick couldn't resist leaning into that warmth, until they were nose to nose and breathing in the same cool air. Daryl smelled like white cake and toothpaste. Rick wondered if that's what he would taste like, too.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Rick could see what was left of the cake sitting there next to Daryl. He smirked to himself and reached out to swipe a small glob of strawberry frosting. He dabbed it gently onto the tip of Daryl's nose, grinning like a fool when Daryl blushed dark enough to match its color.

 

"Dork," Daryl muttered, reaching his hand up to wipe the frosting off his nose. Just in time, Rick caught him by the wrist, and, still grinning, leaned in to lick it off. He chuckled, low and warm, when Daryl's eyes crossed over themselves to watch him in disbelief.

 

As soon as Rick let go Daryl's hand flew up to scrub at his nose, a pleased blush belying his grumpy expression. Rick would have backed off and let him go at that point, but Daryl's legs still gripped him snugly to the counter. Rick's eyebrows lifted, questioning, but Daryl didn't seem to know what to do anymore, only able to study his hands in his lap and clear his throat quietly. Waiting until Daryl's eyes flickered back up to him, Rick reached out for another glob of frosting. This time he licked it off his own fingers, slowly and thoroughly to get every bit of sweetness. The distraction from himself worked - Daryl turned bright red and swallowed hard while unable to look away from Rick's lips.

 

Rick decided to put him out of his misery and closed the distance between them to take his mouth in a deep, sweet-tasting kiss. One of his hands moved to cup Daryl's hip and the other to press into the small of his back; he used both to haul Daryl in even closer until their chests were flushed together and he was in tight between Daryl's thighs. Daryl's tongue came out to lick into Rick's mouth and then again, haltingly, asking for Rick's response. It was gladly given, and Daryl arched into it eagerly, letting Rick steal his hand underneath Daryl's shirt and press it deeper into the curve of his lower back, fingers splayed out over as much of Daryl's heated skin as he could touch. Rick's pinky and ring fingers just barely toyed with the elastic of Daryl's boxers at his hip, teasing at the sensitive skin underneath. This elicited a tiny breathless whimper from Daryl that left Rick dizzy and breathing hard through his nose, taking in the scent of Daryl that only drove him further out of his mind.

 

Rick was so lost that he could only distantly feel Daryl gradually stiffening in his arms, giving less of himself to their kiss, but he was immediately pulled back into reality as soon as he realized how uncomfortable Daryl had become. As soon as he broke it off, Daryl was self-consciously pulling away from him. He was breathing hard through his nose, cheeks flushed red enough to set fire, staring off to the side somewhere. Rick gave him some space but kept his hands lightly pressed to Daryl's sides, holding him together just enough. Daryl glanced up at him gratefully, but his hands were still braced hard against the edge of the counter. His elbows were locked, his chin was pressed down into his chest, and his eyes were closed tightly. Rick slowly reached out to cradle the back of his head, pulling him in to leave a small kiss on the top of his head, then stepped back to let him slide gingerly off the counter.

 

Daryl looked apologetic and embarrassed, one hand rubbing the nape of his neck and the other picking at the peeling varnish on the silverware drawer. As soon as he looked up, Rick gave him a small smile, one meant to show no pity, only acceptance. Daryl's gaze dropped away, leaving Rick to study him for a little while. He was flushed and mussed in the early morning light coming in from the window, eyes tired, lips chapped and raw where he liked to chew them up. Rick took a minute to see his breathing go back to normal and his flush subside a little before he turned away, satisfied that Daryl was okay.

 

Rick went to the fridge to get the bologna and drop it onto the counter. He was reaching up to get the bread from the cabinet when he heard bare footsteps on the kitchen floor. He felt Daryl approach and stand next to him, bumping their shoulders together. He half-turned to face him and then Daryl was taking him into his arms. He slid his fingers into Rick’s hair and cupped Rick’s neck with his other hand, pulling him in to kiss his forehead softly. Rick sighed and tucked his face into Daryl’s shoulder, tugging Daryl in closer with both arms tight around his strong back.

 

They stayed like that for several moments before Daryl pulled away and held Rick in place by his shoulders, squeezing them firmly. "Don't worry about the food," he said, his voice stern and gruff. "Okay?”

 

Rick ducked his head. "I’ll try."

 

Daryl backed away from him. He gave Rick a concerned look and tilted his head towards the hallway. "Go take your shower. I'll have the coffee ready.”

 

“Let me make these first,” Rick began, moving towards the bread and bologna on the counter.

 

Daryl shooed him away, muttering something about “damn housewife”, but he looked pleased when Rick darted in to steal a peck to his cheek. Daryl watched him go, blushing, but the look he had on his face was enough to tell Rick that even though the house was still freezing they were both plenty warm enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if Daryl really has knobby knees or not. Unfortunately I've never seen Norman Reedus' bare legs.


End file.
